Sometimes
by Chibi Tenshi
Summary: A brief glimpse into Hayama's thoughts. Also contains a continuation from the end of the manga. Hope you enjoy ^_^


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Kodomo no Omocha characters. If I did, I'd be such a happy camper ^_^

  


Notes: It's my first time writing a Kodocha ficcie, so please bear with me ^_^ Anyway, this has spoilers for the manga series and takes place from a first person point of view, something I haven't really attempted. I try to focus on the emotions and I might've missed some other key moments, but I think you'll get the general gist of what I'm trying to do. Anyway, I hope you do enjoy and please let me know if you do. It's the first thing I've written in a long time. chibi_tenshi24@yahoo.com Thanks!

  


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Sometimes

  


Sometimes I think my fate was sealed the first time I laid my eyes on her.

In a sea of chaos, she was eerily calm. I should've run then, but I couldn't. I knew she would be my downfall, and my saviour.  


How was I to know then that I would fall in love with her?  


She had walked in, pausing at the doorway, surveying the warzone that had become our classroom. It amused me, those boys… the way they blindly obeyed everything I said. It didn't matter that I didn't really care for how they were tormenting everyone, but it gave me some semblance of life in me. She had given me this look, and it screamed her disgust at me. I found myself being inexplicably annoyed, like her opinion somehow mattered to me. The way her eyes raked over me just rubbed me the wrong way, and I knew then. I knew she would be the end of me.  


I bristled with rage. How dare she just stare at me like this? Like I was inconsequential? How was an eleven year-old girl supposed to know that life wasn't filled with prettiness and flowers? She was so damned spoiled. For god's sake, she even had a damn manager, or pimp as rumours suggested. Did she even know what that word meant?

She brandished her smile around unabashedly for the world to see. Sunshine. Her smile was filled with it, and it bothered me to no end. That I should have to suffer in this hell hole LIVING while she just went around. She had a famous mother who was some sort of writer. She lived in an unreal world where everyone loved her and worshipped her, whereas I had nothing. Nothing at all.

I go through the motions of life and sometimes it seems like nothing matters. Nothing can touch me, or make me feel any more pain. That was what I thought at least.

How was I to know she'd turn my whole world upside down? Or that our fights would turn out to be something else? 

She was weak, and though I'll never repeat this again, she had guts. She stood up to me even when other guys would obey my every command. She just straightened her back and stared at me, daring me to do something to her. Her confidence bugged the living shit out of me. I wanted to hurt her, make her realise that the world wasn't as beautiful as she believed it to be. It wasn't all sunshine.  


Sometimes, I have difficulty in believing in what was to happen next. I still do. Like some sort of angel, she managed to solve my family problems. For once, home felt like… home. I was simply dumbstruck. Why should she care about me? I was a pain in the ass. I made her life a living hell in class and took some secret joy in it, though deep inside, I didn't want to burst her bubble. But reality hurt. Someone had to open her eyes to it. I don't know why I appointed myself to the role, but I wanted to catch her when she fell. I wanted to make her pain go away, just as she somehow did with mine when she saved me.

She did that. All of that, wholeheartedly and with a strength I had never seen anyone possess. She had all that confidence, and she told me once that she never wanted to see anyone sad. She wanted to understand me. I feel a million emotions rushing through me. Resentment, anger, jealousy, envy, but mostly surprise that she would even care for her hated enemy.

I think at that point, my life wasn't mine to own anymore.

She dominated my every waking moment. She tolerated my grumpy, monosyllabic ways and returned nothing but happiness. I remember staring at her during that school trip, thinking how pretty she looked and becoming severely annoyed with myself. How had a spoiled actress somehow wormed her way into my heart?

But she wasn't that. She was the single most giving creature I had ever met. She alone restored faith in me. That there was hope in this world.

It was at that moment that I decided I would somehow make her mine. Her face was so close, and she was so genuinely apologetic about spilling that damn juice on me. I didn't even care. I didn't think. I just thought about how soft her lips looked and simply took it from her. How was I to know that it was her first kiss that I stole from her?

It was well worth the beating I received afterwards. She tasted so sweet, like energy flowing through my lifeless veins, somehow restoring me and healing me. I think at that moment I knew.

Time went by and before we knew it, it was our middle birthday. It was some ridiculous thing that the girls were totally into. She had her heart set on having ours together since she knew what my birthday meant to me. She was so insistent on celebrating. That damn girl. She made me laugh, made me smile. I can still think about her being called Samu and feel my lips curve upwards.

I remembered the amount of time I spent trying to come up with something for her. What do you get the girl who seemingly had everything and gave you back your life? It frustrated me like hell, that I couldn't find the perfect gift. 

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"She's dense. She won't know till you tell her."  


With Tsuyoshi's words ringing in my head, I sat in her backyard, allowing the snow to hit my face, the coldness never really touching me at all. And for the damndest reason, I wanted to make her a snowman. It was stupid and it was ugly, but it was the only thing I could think of at that moment. When she found out it was for her, the smile she gave me just made my heart go crazy. She was so… alive, and so pretty. I remember our eyes meeting, and my own longing to say how I felt to her, but the words wouldn't come out. So I did the only thing I knew. I stole her second kiss from her too. This time, she didn't hit me. I didn't give her a chance to as I ran off. I didn't want to face the rejection I was sure to see in her eyes.  


Then came the movie. The rumours. Kamura. That damn pretty boy that all the girls loved. They had starred in a few things together, and it would just make me seethe. But most of all, what hurt me the most was that he was right. I had **nothing** to offer the girl who had everything.  


When that article came out, something in me died. The last bit of hope did. I shoved the words I was going to say to her when she came back and buried it in the dead recesses of my heart. I would never care for someone the way I did for her. I would never love so single-mindedly, or wholeheartedly. It hurt too damn much.

I numbed myself with Fuuka. She was sweet, and so much like her. I tried to forget and for a while I deluded myself and believed I could be happy with her. It was only when I saw her again that I realised what I had been doing all along.

Lies. Damnable lies. How could I forget the one who had given me a reason to live?  


I kept telling myself I could live with my choice. I didn't have to accept Fuuka's offer. But I was afraid of the rejection. I was afraid she would hurt me, like everyone else had in my life, though she alone never had.  


I can still remember the sting of her hand slapping my face after I had uttered her first name. It was the first time I had ever done it. Somehow I felt that it would distance her. Calling her by what we had used to share would hurt too much. But I had succeeded. She ran away. Not literally, but she buried herself in work. All around me, her images on billboards and TV taunted me, looking more beautiful than ever, and entirely too unattainable. And deep inside me, the pain grew, gnawing away at me.  


Fuuka would sometimes give me a glance, and I knew I wasn't being fair to her. By all accounts, if I had wanted to, I could numb my heart and pretend that Fuuka was her. But she wasn't. Despite the same facial features, same zest for life, there was a difference. Fuuka never owned my heart. I had lost it a long time ago, and it had remained in her hands ever since.  


Then came the incident, where I became less than complete. It didn't matter however, because she was by my side. She gave me courage to continue and made me try harder. I hadn't appreciated all I had, and I was paying the price for it. But it was worth it, because she was now with me, lending me her strength, and in turn giving me my own to continue. I wouldn't lose hope now. Or so I had thought.

When I had very nearly lost her, it shook me to the bottom of my soul. I had never felt such fear in my life. She stopped smiling. It was as if all her features froze along with her heart. I knew I had hurt her badly when I announced I was moving to LA for two years but I had no idea. She hid everything so well. My love. She's one hell of an actress.

I thought a long time ago that sometimes her acting didn't necessarily stay off camera. She had seemed startled by that observation, like a deer caught in the headlights. How well she had learned to shut everyone out. And I was completely lost without her. I didn't know what to do. She was sick. And there was nothing in the world I could do. I would give up my life if it had meant she would get better. But it didn't. My love was sick, and there was nothing in the world I could do. I tried. I did everything I could. Finally I confronted her, and she had seemed shocked. She had no idea, and I fell to my weakest, giving in to my frustrations, my anger, my fear. 

I cried in front of her.

Not since my father's hospitalization had I done that. I cried because I was scared shitless as to what I would do if I lost her, my girl who rescued me a few years ago. But I would be by her side till she got better. For all eternity. I would give it all up for her, because time and time again, she had seen past my bullshit to the scared little boy beneath. Only she had gotten through, and this time, I did too.

Time flew by quicker than expected. Initially, it had been hell being away from her. I was a total chickenshit, completely afraid of the operation. What if it didn't matter? What if I could never move that hand again? False hope can be far more cruel than no hope at all. I could live with myself if I never could hold her in my arms again, but to believe that I could and have it all be dashed away, that… didn't bear thinking.  


Therapy was a royal bitch. It hurt like hell, but all I could see was her face smiling at me, giving me her strength to go on. Because of her, I got strong. For her, I healed.

Then I went back to Japan again, just for a day just to see her. I lied and told her I was there to see the high school but she caught me, just as I knew she would. How well she knew me. As she chided me over the phone, my lips couldn't help but curve upwards. She would die if she knew I was grinning at her. She would probably explode if she knew how fast my heart was beating the moment I saw her again.

  
It was as if time had stood still for us those years I was away. Having her in my arms again felt like heaven. Of course, I couldn't help teasing her, and I got my head beaten as usual for it. She didn't know it but I find her so damn adorable whenever she gets mad at me. Her cheeks get all flushed, her breathing gets a little heavier, and she just glares at me as if she yearns to throttle me. Don't get me wrong. I value my life, and I know she would given half a chance, but it just amuses me that I can get such a strong reaction out of her.  


High school proved tougher than anticipated. Adjusting to being back in Japan, to my girlfriend who I hadn't seen in a few years, and we had more than our fair share of fights. But the bond still held steadfast. I couldn't be without her, and she couldn't be without me.

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Warm arms slipped around my waist, and she propped her head on my shoulder.  


"Whatcha writing, Akito?"

Her breath tickled my ears and I swore that a ton of shivers just shot down my spine. I closed the book quickly and turned around so that I could in turn put my arms around her tiny waist.

"Nothing," I replied gruffly, a bit dismayed that she had nearly caught me at what I was doing.

"What do you keep in there anyway?" she asked suspiciously. Shit, she would find out. Frantically searching my brain for a diversion, I patted her ass, and promptly got a mallet in the head.

"AKITO!! You damn pervert!!! After all these years, I can't believe you'd try to cop a feel!!!"

I somehow managed to keep my face impassive and growled at her. "What the hell? We've been going out for how long now and you get pissed off over something like that?"  


At twenty, she was no longer the young girl she once was. Now she was breathtakingly beautiful and one of Japan's most successful actresses. She had even managed to star in a Hollywood movie. She had told me once that those gaijin gave her the heebie jeebies, whatever that meant. It was probably something she goofed up on in translation. Her shiny chestnut hair hung in pigtails, and I swore she looked like a teenager when she did that, minus the chest that was now heaving in my direction. I curbed my thoughts, knowing full well the pounding I'd receive if I were to vocalize it.

"Do you know you still haven't grown?" I asked, staring pointedly at her chest. I was a glutton for pain. My face thankfully missed the foot that came flying in my direction, and I was suddenly grateful for all those years of karate. Gingerly I caught her and spun her so that she was now pressed up against me.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, the widening of those brown eyes, and she just stared at me. 

"Hayama," she whispered.

"I thought we'd gotten past that stage," I whispered back. I enjoyed the blush that suffused her cheek as she laid her head upon my chest. I was pretty sure she was getting a kick at how fast my heart was racing at this point. And despite all my hormonal reactions, a sense of peace washed over me.   


Her hand rested right above my heart, and she sighed softly. "Gomen ne, Akito. I know we shouldn't have fought about that… the other night."

"Daijoubu." Shit, did my voice really sound that gruff?

"I hurt you Akito. I always do, and I don't mean to… ever since we first started going out…"

I could feel her pain radiating from her, and I knew that the actress's façade has fallen. She was simply herself, and my fingers stroked her hair and my other arm held her tightly.

  


"Daijoubu," I repeated. Her body was still tense against mine and I knew she felt guilty. How torn she must feel, lost between the acting world and mine. I was such a hard nosed bastard at times. I can't properly express how I feel about her, and I just clam up. But she's still with me.

"It's Christmas Eve, and I was nearly not here. My work… I promise I'll…"  


I kissed her, wanting her to stop this needless blame. It didn't matter. She was where she belonged, by my side. I would want no other woman in this life time. That spot was hers forever. She leaned into me, and I held her closer before breaking away.

"You talk too much, Kurata." She gave me a mischievous grin that made me suspicious instantly. "What?"  


"I have a present for ya," she announced.

Like so many years ago, she undoubtedly gave the gift great thought, and I was hell bound on doing something right for a change. I was going to let her know how much she meant to me. What I had been writing earlier, was a little manuscript. Who would've thought that I, Hayama Akito, would turn out to be a wanna-be writer?

"So do I," I replied gruffly.   


Her eyes widened in surprise before twinkling at me. "Is it a snowman?" She sniffed around the room and quirked her brow. "I don't smell anything burnt." She was referring to the one and only attempt I had made to cook for her. I didn't plan on repeating it again, nor did she intend on letting me anywhere near the kitchen now. "That's what cooks and store-bought food is for," she had managed to squeeze out between fits of giggles.

It was a bit earlier than anticipated but I wanted her to show her how she had changed me. Reaching behind me, I pulled out a stack of papers and handed it over to her.

"Happy middle birthday, Sana."

She blinked in confusion and alternated her eyes comically between my face and the sheets in her hands.

"You're done?" she exclaimed in delight.

"Not quite, but I wanted you to be the first to see." One part of me wanted to throw myself into the closest wormhole. The other longed for her approval. 

She smiled brilliantly and sat down on the couch. Patting on the seat next to her, she said, "Come keep me company, Akito, while I read this."

  


She didn't have to ask twice. The tears that eventually trickled down her face worried me slightly, as did the sniffles that kept sounding out.

She turned around and just stared at me with those eyes of hers. Then, practically jumping on me, she flung her arms around my neck and kissed me whole heartedly. Not that I'm complaining.  


"Arigato, Akito. Arigato."

She was thanking me. The one who gave me everything was thanking me. 

"Iie, it's not quite finished."

She blinked once again and I nearly laughed. She was still childlike in many ways, and I never wanted to see her change that.

"There's more to it??"  


"Aaa," I reply.

"It sounds like it ended to me," she said, head tilting to one side.

"It's just a beginning. There's still the rest of our lives to complete that book."

The tears began falling in earnest and I finally gave in to the urge to smile at her. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek and there was such love in her gaze that it brought me to my knees. I'm humbled by her, loved by her, and completely astounded that someone that wonderful should choose to be with such a bumbling asshole.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. "What's my present?" I demanded, eager to change the topic. Her emotions still overwhelmed me at times and it occasionally made me want to turn into a blubbering idiot. God I'd never live that one down if it happened.

She smiled through her tears saucily, an act that only she could accomplish. Right before she kissed me, she whispered, "Happy middle birthday" as she brought my hand to her stomach that was now slightly protruding.

Sometimes, I thought that day was the happiest day of my life. Then again, she never failed to prove me wrong.

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With writer husband, Akito, by her side, actress Hayama Sana gave birth to a healthy 7lb baby girl named Nozomi. The normally stoic Akito was rumoured to have broken a smile at the sight of his daughter.

  


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AN: Nozomi means hope, something I thought appropriate for what Sana brought into Hayama's life ^_^


End file.
